


Everybody Hurts

by knitsforthetrail



Series: Oneshots and Drabbles [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crying, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, guilt and depression over character death, poor vitya can't catch a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitsforthetrail/pseuds/knitsforthetrail
Summary: depression is a bitch





	Everybody Hurts

Victor smiled at the doorman, the sentiment not quite reaching his eyes and dropping away quickly. He walked to the elevator at the far end of the room and lightly pressed the up button. The elevator car smelled of dust and a woman’s perfume, and Victor grinned a little at the familiar music playing through the speakers. Its tinny quality hadn’t changed over the years, and the song probably hadn’t been replaced once in the many years since the building was constructed. The simple tune was engraved in his mind, an ever-present reminder of better times.

The lift stopped on the 8th floor, mechanical doors jerking open to a hallway no different than on the other floors. Victor stepped out, scuffing the carpet in the same place as always. The carpet had been sticking up for years, and despite various complaints, it never did get fixed. Normally it was a source of annoyance, but today the familiarity comforted him. Walking down the hallway Victor counted the flowers on the floral carpet, looking up when he reached the 20th.

The door had been through much over the years, from Yurio’s furious entrances to Makkachin’s pawing it had taken many beatings. Victor could remember the first time he walked through the door. He and Yuuri had been looking for their first apartment. The hall had been bathed in soft sunlight, the kitchen still smelled of fresh paint. The world had been fresh, full of new possibilities and new beginnings, and the way Yuuri’s eyes lit up as they walked through the door, Victor knew they had found home.

Now the light in the hall flickered on and off, giving the hall an eerie feel, and Victor hurried inside as if he could escape his demons, leave them trapped in the flickering hall. Absently, he kicked off his shoes and hung his coat on the rack. The entryway was dark but he didn’t bother turning on the lights as he made his way towards the kitchen. Faces stared down at him from pictures hung on the wall. They all depicted memories that Victor held dear: Yuuri’s first Russian Christmas, Makkachin’s last litter of puppies, several from their wedding. The joy in those memories didn’t quite reach through to him, but he smiled a little all the same, as he always did.

Trapped in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice the smells of cooking wafting through from the kitchen. He slowly stepped into the warm room, blinking in the sudden light bathing him. He looked up, and his eyes landed on his husband, bending over a pot of boiling liquid. Victor felt a grin on his face at the beautifully domestic scene. Yuuri turned around, stirring spoon in hand and jumped.

“Victor! You scared me!” Yuuri’s laugh was like music, embracing him in warmth. “How was your day?”

Victor looked up into the loving eyes of his husband and in that moment, he felt the dam break. The wall holding in the tides of emotion that had been chipping at him all day, crashing down leaving him defenseless. His body was racked with tremors, tears that had hidden under the surface sprang free, falling with a vengeance at being suppressed so long. His breath came out in little sobs. All that remained of his defenses was that damned smile, the one that had never failed him until Yuuri came along and saw right through his strongest mask.

No longer able to keep up the façade he gave in completely to the rolling tides of sorrow pulling him in. He collapsed onto the floor, distantly aware of a warm embrace and a hand smoothing back his hair. He was unaware of the time passing as they sat together, Victor’s shaking body held tight against Yuuri.

Slowly Victor returned to himself, unable to cry anymore and while the feeling of drowning hadn’t left, it had backed off a little. Yuuri was whispering sweet nothings into his hair, and Victor’s tears had soaked the shoulder of his sweater. A cloud of embarrassment and self-disgust settled on him, and in a raspy voice said, “Yuuri, the soup…”

His husband’s body tensed, then began to shake underneath him with surprised laughter, “Don’t worry about it Vitya,” he pulled back enough to look Victor in the face, tender smile on his lips, “You’ll always be more important.”

Victor’s face crumpled once more, yet no more tears fell. Yuuri brushed back his hair and gently placed a kiss on his forehead, then helped Victor to the kitchen table. Yuuri hummed a familiar tune as he cleaned up the charred mess in the pot and dug around for a new meal. Victor sat lifeless in the chair, staring blankly at the scratches in the wood table.

A plate was placed in front of him, a peanut butter sandwich cut in triangles the way he liked. He looked up at Yuuri, who shrugged, “sorry, it’s all we have left. We’ll have to go shopping soon,”

The hinting of a smile played at his lips, “It’s perfect”.

They ate their meal together in silence, legs tangling together underneath the table, left hands clasped together. When the dishes were cleared the two made their way to the living room and collapsed onto the couch in a tangle of limbs.

“Want to talk about it?”

Victor knew this was coming, but winced in shame all the same, “I had a bad day…” and to his shame, gentile tears began to build in his eyes. Yuuri held him close, Victor’s head resting on his chest, waiting for him to continue, and after taking a few breaths, he managed to choke out, “I’m so lost and afraid-” his voice cracked, “-I just miss him so much.”

“I know darling, I wish I could take away your pain,” And the tears began to fall again. They rolled lazily down his cheek, pooling at his ears, then drip drip dripping softly onto Yuuri’s already damp sweater.

They lay there for hours, Yuuri softly combing through Victor’s hair while he cried, until Victor finally fell asleep. Yuuri smiled gently down at his husband as he carried Victor to bed.

It had been eight months since they said their goodbyes at Yakov’s funeral, three since Yuri moved out for college. One week since Victor finally returned to the rink, sixteen minutes since he last cried.

In the middle of the night lying curled up against Yuuri in bed, Victor would hum a simple melody, the same one from the elevator, the same one from the kitchen. The same one from every walk of his life, good or bad. He’d smile to himself as the soft music filled the room, remembering once again that while he drowns in a sea of sorrow, there will always be someone close to pull him up for air.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having a bad day but felt like writing, so I'm dragging you all down with me
> 
> On the other hand, this was mostly written in daylight! What d'you know! Also the title is based off the R.E.M song of the same name because I listened to it while writing this.
> 
> I plan on starting a scheduled fic soon, but I can't decide what to write, it would be great if you could leave your opinion [here](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfTKU2UD9LhyVjklEK2Tdvxjfx28FpCbQfdNDxKjLgxYlEyBw/viewform?usp=sf_link)!
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought!


End file.
